CHAPTER 2 - LEAH LININGTON'S P.O.V.
The wind threw hard at my thin window, making me shiver. I wrapped my blanket tighter around me, and sighed.
I still couldn't believe what I saw in Bella's diary about an hour ago. I always knew her father was tough on her, but only in the fatherly sort of way: Grades and being the best on the soccer team. I would have never even Jason, (Maria's ex) had hit her. I shivered again, but this time not because of the cool air.
After I read the words, my father hit me, I stopped reading for a few reasons. First of all, I didn't want to read any more: The thought of Bella having a bruise or a red prickled scratch somewhere made me drip small, little tears. She had never diserved that-how could she not have mentioned it to me?
Before long, my eye lids fell shut, tighty resting against my bottom eyelid. My hair was scrambled on my white silk pillow, and one of my legs was sticking awkwardly out of the woolen blanket my mother had made me when I was just a baby.
All of a sudden, my mind started shooting colors everywhere I looked. There was purples, then greens, then maroons - but all mixed together, like a scatter art. Then, for a split second, it was pure white: Nothing other than white that filled the back of my eyelids. Then it would go back to the abstract art, which was now moving all around.
I now found myself in Bella's room. It looked just the same how it had before she disapperead: The walls were baby blue, her big king bed was placed cozely in the middle of her carpeted bedroom. Her white wooden shelves that lined her room were full of thick books. In the back corner next to her walk-in closet was a big desk, filled with homework and pictures and soccer trophies. I walked silently, leaning left to right, towards one of the pictures. For a second, it was a big blur: The colors were like the ones I saw before, bright and smooshed together. Then, I finally made out the picture: It was Bella and I from when we were little girls, standing up tall in her blow up pool with floaties wrapped around our biceps. The smiles on our faces were so broad and happy.
I quickly turned around, and saw Bella on the table. The corners of my mouth lifted slightly. She mirrored me. I raised my eyebrows. She did the exact same.
I giggled happily. Of course, she copied me. Then, all of a sudden, her figure faded into another character - she had brown hair, dark eyebrows, fair skin - it was me.
I woke to my alarm shrilling loudly into my ear. The sun was blinding me so badly I had to cover up my big window that was looking over my bed.
Outside, the birds were singing loudly and I could hear the crash of the deep ocean waves hitting against the shore line, sending up a breeze. It was May now, and the flowers were just starting to bloom and the weather was almost acceptable for shorts.
I stopped my train of thought and got up, switched from my pajama's to my old blue jeans and a thin sweatshirt, and headed downstairs where my older sister was waiting silently for me. By this time, my parents had already gone off to work, leaving Paige and I alone.
"Hey," she mumbled as I hit the bottom step, then walked into the kitchen. Her long dark hair was in a high messy bun, she was in a heavy bathrob, and her eyes were puffy. "Breakfast is on the table."
I smiled at the bacon and toast. "Thanks," I said, as I sat down and started munching on my crisp buttered toast.
"I'm sick," she blurted out, then rested her head on the table. "You can drive yourself today."
"Don't you have that big math test today? Paige, you can't miss that-" I said sharply.
"I can make it up later, whatever." She said heavily.
I rolled my eyes, then went back to my toast and kept on thinking about my bazare dream. Was it trying to tell me something? I shrugged, then went out the door into my old truck, turned on the engine, blasted the music, and went on with my day.
"Linington. Over here," a deep, raspy voice called out over the swarm of high schoolers, all admiring one boy. I just simply laughed at that, then obeyed the guy who called for me: Henry.
Henry Peters was basically the Bella of the school now: Popular, hansom, and was recently voted best quarter back. Good for him was all I could say.
"Hey, Henry," I replied as soon as I got over there with a smile. He and his group of friends were all laughing, and when I said this, they all turned to me.
"Leeaaahh-" he said, making my name sound extrememly long. "What's up?"
I was about to say something, but he interrupted.
"Any news on Bells?"
I looked over towards him. He didn't look as happy as he did just a few seconds ago. His dark eyebrows looked nervous, and his eyes were shiney. I glared at him deeply.
"Erm-" I was about to tell him what I had seen in her diary two nights before. I wanted to spill everything, right then and there. But of course, I didn't. "No, hasn't been for months."
He sighed, then went back to his friends, his back turned away from me. So that's the only reason people talked to me anymore? Bella?
My day carried on with the same stuff: Way to hard algebra, way to easy history. My teachers were okay, they were nothing great. School wasn't exactly my specialty, like it was Bella's. Actually, everything she did she was amazing at. I envied her, and probably always will.
